


Anywhere That You Like

by threeturn



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music Video, Blow Jobs, Crack, M/M, Multi, Rimming, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 19:49:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threeturn/pseuds/threeturn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Kiss You</em> video fic. Roadtripping, storytelling, and jailbreaking with biker!Zayn, hitchhiker!Harry, cheerleaders!Niall and Louis, and chauffeur!Liam. Brief cameo by prison guard!Nick. No one wants to take it slow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anywhere That You Like

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this back when the first [_Kiss You_ video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T4cdfRohhcg) was released and then went back to it after getting stuck a couple thousand words into a srs bsns canon fic. Crack proved easier for me than tourbus angst, especially after the [alternate _Kiss You_ video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vLimdVcpsYk) happened, so…na na na na na na na na, here's Zayn on a motorcycle.

**ONE: MOTORCYCLE**

Zayn's all about the open road, see. And on a bike he's free, not like some wanker buried alive in a giant SUV like the one that's just passed him, one poor sod up front driving and some idiot passenger in the backseat like bloody Prince William. Much good it's doing either of them, anyway; before long it's Zayn who's passing the SUV, because it's stopped by the side of the road and the driver's just slumped in the front seat with a phone pressed to his ear. For one dumb minute Zayn considers stopping to see if he needs help before remembering that he doesn't need anyone slowing him down.

So he couldn't have explained why he really does stop when he's gone a bit further, past the SUV, and sees a kid hunching his shoulders in a grey blazer, kicking a stone at the side of the road before looking up and seeing Zayn. Then his face lights up all over and he gives Zayn this enormous grin and sticks out his thumb and Zayn's hitting the brakes before he's even decided to stop.

The kid runs over without hesitation. He's probably never been turned down in his life, thinks Zayn. The thought's sour enough that he doesn't crack a smile. He just says, "Where you headed, then?" and the kid names some posh uni and insists it's in Zayn's direction.

Zayn shrugs dubiously but the kid seems to take that as a yes, piling on behind Zayn without hesitation. "Liam was taking me, that's my dad's driver, but then my dad rang me and started in on my tats and my marks and my attention span and we had an awful row. So I hung up on him and told Liam to stop right there, I wasn't going any further on my dad's money. Then there was another row with Liam because he said it wasn't safe for me to go on by myself like that. But I won and here I am."

"Seriously?" Zayn asks. "Are you twelve?" He suddenly realises that this kid must be the twat from the back seat of that SUV.

"Nope!" says the kid from behind him. Zayn can't see his face, but he doesn't sound insulted. "Nineteen. I'm Harry, by the way."

"Zayn," says Zayn. He looks down at the hand Harry's already got wrapped around his waist and sees the tattoo on Harry's wrist. _I can't change_. "So now you want me to take you to uni? Isn't your dad paying for uni?"

"I'm on scholarship," says Harry. "I'm very clever."

Zayn doubts that, based on the tattoo, but he decides not to argue. "What about your clothes?"

There's a pause, and then a thunk between his shoulder blades. Harry seems to be banging his forehead there.

"I didn't think of that," Harry moans. "Bought with his money, of course. I should take my clothes off. I hate my dad."

His stupid hair is tickling the back of Zayn's neck. "Keep your clothes on," says Zayn, and resists adding, "for now." He kick-starts the engine and off they go.

Zayn expects the next hour with this twat to be utter misery, but you can't really have much of a conversation while you're moving, so it's not that bad. Every once in a while Harry seems to be rasping something boring into Zayn's right ear, but Zayn just kind of grunts unencouragingly and Harry doesn't push it. It's all right, Zayn guesses, the kid's body up close to his, his hands on Zayn's waist.

They've got the road to themselves, just about, except for this one red convertible that comes into view every so often. When Zayn puts on a burst of speed and passes it, he sees two lads bouncing in their seats in a creepy kind of unison. There's a flash of blond hair, and Zayn winks at it. He's okay with vintage convertibles. Harry takes one arm off Zayn's waist, lurching a little, and Zayn realises Harry's waving to them. He doesn't know if the boys are waving back. They're driving pretty slowly and Zayn's already left them behind.

It's a bit odd, having a passenger like this; Zayn hasn't doubled up on a bike in ages. Probably Harry doesn't have to keep his legs curled into Zayn's like that, but then again the kid's tall, at least compared to Zayn, and it's a pretty small motorcycle, so maybe his legs don't have anywhere else to go. Does he have to squirm like that though? Honestly, Zayn stopped to give a bloke a lift, he didn't sign up to babysit.

"D'ya need a slash or something?" Zayn calls into the wind. He decelerates a little.

"No?"

"Because you keep _moving_ ," says Zayn. "Settle down, can't you?"

"Sorry," says Harry, and spreads his hands on Zayn's hips. Harry's hands are pretty large, Zayn notices. It's not really the kind of thing he intended to start noticing, but here they are.

"'m just trying to get comfortable," says Harry, and he slides forward even closer to Zayn.

Zayn rolls his eyes. "Happy now?"

"Yes," Harry whispers in his ear, breath hot. "Really happy."

Which is when Zayn decides he's probably not going to be able to ignore what Harry's got pushed right up against Zayn's bum. The kid's got to be sporting a semi at least. Rude.

"Okay?" whispers Harry, and licks at his earlobe, right where Zayn's got an earring in. Zayn shrugs and concentrates on the road. One of Harry's hands moves off Zayn's hip and down to Zayn's thigh. He squeezes.

"Road safety," says Zayn.

"But you're not even wearing a helmet."

"With this hair?" Zayn's shocked at the thought.

"I'm not saying I don't appreciate it," Harry rumbles in his ear. He's rocking forward against Zayn now, and yeah, he must've been only half-hard before because what he's pressing against Zayn now is on another level.

"This is some teenage rebellion thing, yeah?" says Zayn, keeping his voice even.

"No," says Harry. "This is just something I like to do." His hand reaches the front of Zayn's jeans, right where Zayn's dick is straining against his zipper. Zayn swerves and swears.

"Sorry," says Harry.

"You’re not sorry." Zayn squints ahead and then checks his mirror. The road's deserted in both directions. Zayn pulls over to the shoulder.

"Don't ditch me," Harry says, worried. "I'm sorry, I'll stop. I just got the feeling, you know, that you—"

"Yeah," says Zayn, and he slides off the bike. Harry's still straddled there, looking guilty and defiant. "Off," says Zayn.

"It's only," says Harry, "it's only I get a little carried away."

"Right." Zayn pulls him off the bike, because Harry seems to need a little help following orders. Harry lets him, possibly because he's naturally pliant or possibly because when he flipped his hair to the side he lost his balance and was about to fall anyway.

"Also I left my phone in Liam's car, so I'm kinda, like, stranded." Harry looks at him with big green eyes that are probably supposed to make him melt inside.

"Stop that," says Zayn to the eyes. He turns Harry around and bends him over the side of the bike, running a hand over the curve of Harry's bum.

"Oh!" says Harry. "I mean, okay, yeah! Sure!"

Zayn doesn't bother to answer. He holds Harry to the bike with a hand on the small of his back and rubs himself slowly and deliberately against Harry's arse. Harry widens his stance and pushes right back. One hand flutters up a little wildly, batting behind him as if he's trying to get hold of Zayn. So Zayn grabs his wrist and puts his hand back on the bike, rough enough to show Harry he needs to stay where he's put. Harry folds his arms under him and doesn't fight it. Zayn digs his fingers into Harry's hips and grinds into him, reaching around to fumble at the button of Harry's jeans and yank his zipper down. Harry whimpers when Zayn reaches his cock.

"I'll blow you," says Harry. "I really wanna blow you, you're so hot." His words are coming out slow and unsteady. "Or you could fuck me. Although my stuff is in my suitcase in Liam's car, and I dunno if you have anything?"

"Shush," says Zayn. He's leaning forward, one hand on the bike and one hand on Harry. Harry's making more whimpering sounds now, because Zayn may have pulled Harry's cock out at some point. Honestly, Zayn would kind of like to drop to his knees himself, because Harry really is big and it's not every day that Zayn gets to have something like that in his mouth. But he's not going to give Harry the satisfaction, and anyway, the ground's really dusty and Zayn likes this pair of trousers.

Speaking of clothing, he's getting a little concerned about coming in his pants. So he drops Harry's cock, pulls him off the bike, and turns him around. Harry drops to his knees without further instructions and Zayn unzips. "Don't make a mess," he says. Harry shakes his head passionately and clutches at Zayn's thighs. Zayn rolls his eyes and grabs his cock, feeds it into Harry's mouth. Harry's good, Zayn will give him that, he takes it all and doesn't complain. Zayn can appreciate that level of cooperation, so when he's about to shoot, he gives him fair warning. "Swallow it," says Zayn, in case Harry was thinking about alternatives.

"Mmmm," says Harry, and Zayn is starting to think he'd misjudged him a little. Maybe Harry _is_ clever. His mouth certainly is. When Zayn's done, Harry drops his head against Zayn's hip and reaches down to take himself in hand. Zayn pulls his wrist away and drags him upright. Harry's face is flushed, his lips cherry-red. Zayn pushes Harry back against the bike and steps up close and Harry puts his face up like he thinks he's going to get kissed.

Zayn stares at his lips in confusion. "Get back on the bike," he says, and Harry turns to look at the bike as if climbing it now would be some kind of extreme Himalayan feat. "Like this," says Zayn. He pushes at Harry till he's got Harry seated side-saddle with his jeans halfway down his arse. His dick's still hard. Zayn likes that about Harry. He puts his hand in front of Harry's mouth. "Lick."

Harry opens his eyes wide and licks enthusiastically and then Zayn steps up as close to Harry as possible, puts one arm around him to keep him steady, and wanks him fast and firm, nothing fancy. Harry groans low in his throat and makes no attempt whatsoever to last, and Zayn curses again because now Harry's made him messy after all. He brings his hand back to Harry's mouth, because the least Harry can do after all this inconvenience is clean him up. Harry licks quietly and efficiently and looks up at Zayn questioningly when he's done.

"When's the exit for your uni, anyway?" says Zayn, because otherwise he's going to start kissing Harry and then where will they be?

"Oh, that," says Harry. "We passed it a few kilometres back."

 

**TWO: CAR**

Louis had insisted that he was the finest driver in England, but Niall didn't really think it was necessary to believe him in order to accept his offer of a ride to the national cheerleading championships. The rest of their team were traveling by rail, but Louis said he'd never be able to get in the zone for competition if he couldn't drive there in his vintage convertible, and since everyone knew their scores depended on Louis's sparkling grin atop their dangerously high pyramids, no one protested. Niall was surprised when Louis came to find him in the locker room after their last practise to tell him he was coming along too.

"I am?" said Niall. He'd been looking forward to the train, actually. He was going to play his guitar for all the cutest cheerleaders, so that they'd sing along and ruffle his hair.

"Yes," said Louis, "didn't you know I've got a red convertible? Looks better when it's got a blond in it." And since Louis was the cutest cheerleader of them all, Niall didn't ask any more questions.

Now the sun is shining and Louis is letting him take charge of the radio dial and even though Louis is driving a little too slowly they haven't had a single confrontation with a lorry driver. At one point two boys had zoomed past on a motorcycle. The dark-haired one might have winked, although that was probably Niall's optimistic imagination. The other one had definitely waved, and Niall waved back. He likes to be friendly.

Louis is passing the time by talking shit about every single member of their cheerleading squad, one at a time, and Niall is listening happily and agreeing with everything he says. It's awfully nice of Louis to drop so much information, especially since everyone says Louis'll be elected team captain next year, and Niall's only just joined the squad this term. Louis explains in great detail exactly who on their squad fancies whom, and then says that he personally knows of at least two people who think Niall's fit. "One's a girl," says Louis, "and one's a bloke."

"'Zat so," says Niall, when he realises Louis is waiting for him to say something. He's not going to come right out and ask who the bloke is. After all, he doesn't know how Louis feels about that kind of thing—some male cheerleaders can be so touchy about the stereotypes.

"Of course I can't say who," says Louis. He pats carefully at his quiff.

"All right," says Niall. Louis's probably just making it up to be nice, anyway. He twirls the radio dial, finds Beyoncé, and sits back in satisfaction. "Me and my boo and my boo coupe ridin'," sings Niall.

"All up in that black with his chick right beside him," Louis sings back.

Niall does a snakey little Beyoncé move. Louis does a snakey little Beyoncé move. This is the best road trip ever. Just before the final countdown, Louis puts his hand on Niall's knee. That's nice, too. Niall thinks about putting his hand on top of Louis's hand. He can feel his cheeks getting a little red.

"So, Niall, I've been meaning to ask you," says Louis, when Bee finishes it off.

"I agree," says Niall quickly, because he's pretty sure he knows what Louis is going to say. He isn't sure why Louis is drawing in his breath like that, though. "Definitely we should do our next routine to that song. It's seriously perfect for backflips."

"What?" says Louis. He's drawn his hand a little higher up on Niall's thigh, but he's still staring straight ahead, as if he's a responsible driver, which at this point Niall knows isn't true.

"'Countdown,'" says Niall. He leans forward and fumbles in the glove compartment for crisps. "Isn't that what we're talking about?"

"No," says Louis. "And there are no snacks in there, Niall."

"Oh. Where are they then?"

"They aren't," says Louis. "Could you pay attention?"

"To what?"

"To _me_." Louis's fingers are rubbing along Niall's inseam.

"What _about_ you," says Niall. "Can we stop at the next petrol station?"

"You really want to do this in a grotty service station toilet?"

"Do what?" says Niall, confused. "I just want to buy crisps."

" _No_ ," says Louis. Possibly there's a note of exasperation in his voice.

Niall isn't sure what's wrong, but he turns up the music to make Louis feel better. Everyone likes the Biebs, right? "Swag, swag, swag on you," mutters Niall, trying to sound as hot as Justin. "Chillin' by the fire while we eatin' fondue."

Louis reaches over and turns the music down.

"You're kidding," says Niall. "You don't like this song?"

"I like _you_ ," says Louis. "If you could shut up for a minute I could tell you that."

"Oh," says Niall. "I like you, too. I forgot to say, thanks for giving me a ride, Lou! This is fun!"

Louis makes a strangled sound and punches the steering wheel. "It would be more _fun_ ," he says, "if you were sucking my dick."

"Really?" says Niall, startled.

"I think from my perspective, yes," says Louis. "My perspective as the future _team captain_ , by the way."

Niall frowns. He really doesn't care whether Louis's going to be team captain. That doesn't make a difference to Louis's pretty face or his biceps or his adorable scratchy voice. Niall's only worried about the fact that Louis is busy _driving_. But even though Louis's left hand is rubbing over Niall's dick now, he's keeping the other hand steady on the wheel. That seems like a good sign as far as road safety goes. Still—"Is it safe?"

"Niall," said Louis. "There's no one else on this road except that motorcycle guy and the boy he's got hanging on behind him. This is the perfect opportunity for road head."

Niall shrugs. "Okay, sounds good."

Louis lets out a breath all at once. "Really?"

"Sure, whatever," says Niall. He's already bending over Louis's lap.

"Only if you want to," says Louis, his voice softer now.

"Yeah," says Niall, surprised that this is even a question. He tugs at Louis's zipper, pressing his knuckles to Louis's hard-on through his jeans. "Too bad about that other bloke on the team and all."

"What bloke?" says Louis, his hand in Niall's hair.

 

**THREE: SIDECAR**

Liam's having the worst day. First that little brat Harry spends thirty minutes straight arguing with Mr Styles over whether he can keep his mind off the boys long enough to get a degree, then there's some dust-up about tattoos, and finally he yells that his dad's not his dad anymore and before Liam knows it he's telling Liam to pull over and jumping out of the backseat. And Liam's about to go after him, but his mobile rings and by the time Liam's found his phone (it took a minute, because Harry had swiped it early in the journey), answered it, and said a sad hello to his employer, Harry's run off down the road, around a bend and out of sight.

Still, Liam doesn't mention this to Harry's dad. For some reason, Liam feels protective of Harry, even though Harry completely doesn't deserve it and has apparently replaced Liam's usual lockscreen with homosexual pornography. So Liam just listens while Mr Styles tells him that he's to take Harry straight to uni and not let him leave the car for any reason, and if Liam wouldn't mind could he have a bit of a talk to Harry, man to man, and explain to him that he's being a blithering idiot.

Liam has no idea why Mr Styles thinks he has some kind of special touch when it comes to Harry. Harry's impossible, everyone knows that, and if Harry had any respect for Liam's opinion he wouldn't make such a habit of embarrassing remarks and inappropriate behaviour in Liam's general vicinity. For example, Liam's always told Harry that when he's doing some work in the garage, sweaty and shirtless with grease marks smudging up his torso, he's got no need for Harry to come strolling in and crawl under the car with Liam as if he's going to be of any material assistance whatsoever. But does Harry listen? Never in life.

Still, Mr Styles seems to think he's got some influence with the lad, which might have been flattering if he weren't nattering on about it while the precious minutes tick by and Harry gets further and further away.

"So I can count on you, then?" Mr Styles asks at last.

"Er…" says Liam. Someone zooms by on a motorcycle, a flash of black hair and a blue jacket.

"Sulking now, is he?"

"Y-yes," says Liam. Anyway, most likely it's true.

"Ring me as soon as you've made it there," barks Mr Styles, and ends the call.

Liam groans and bangs—very gently—on the steering wheel with his fist. Right. He's got to find Harry, and he's got to find him before Mr Styles knows he's ever been gone. Shouldn't be too hard; if his GPS is right, it's miles yet before there'll be a fork in the road. Liam starts driving slowly, peering from side to side in case Harry's hiding behind a tree or a rock.

Except that after Liam's been driving for three minutes, the engine starts making protest noises and then dies altogether. Liam pulls over again and lifts the hood. What he sees makes him want to cry. It's going to take far too long to fix now if he wants to catch up with Harry. So Liam carefully locks all the doors and sets off again on foot.

By the time Liam's jogged a mile, his shirt is sticking to him and he'd like to remove his cardigan but that would possibly be unprofessional and Liam feels bad enough about all this already. He doesn't understand why he hasn't caught up with Harry by now. He's pretty sure he could beat Harry in a race. He's pretty sure he could _lap_ Harry in a race. At this point it's possible that speed isn't the problem.

Liam slows to a walk and starts composing resignation letters in his head— _Dear Mr Styles, I am sorry that I mislaid your only son, but I am willing to travel the world to find him and restore my lost honour_ —when in the distance he sees two figures on a motorcycle parked on the shoulder of the road. He feels a surge of hope. As he gets closer he sees that yes, one of them is Harry. He can't see the other one because he's slumped forward and Harry seems to be—spanking him? Liam would like to jump in a giant vat of eye and brain bleach if at all possible. But no such vat being handy, he steels himself and starts jogging up the road. "Oi! Harry!"

Harry's head jerks around and the other bloke sits up. He looks mysterious, beautiful, and up to no good. It's the guy who passed Liam on the motorcycle earlier. Now he's hopping off his bike, not looking particularly embarrassed about—about what was happening a minute ago.

"Zayn! Get back on, c'mon, let's move!" yells Harry, and bounces up and down on the bike.

The boy called Zayn shrugs and waves at Liam. "You're the driver, yeah?"

"Yes!" Liam shouts gratefully.

"We gotta _go_ ," howls Harry. "He works for my _dad_!"

Zayn leans back against the bike. "He's fit, though."

"Thank you very much," Liam starts politely as he reaches them, and then breaks off, confused. Harry takes advantage of the time it takes Liam to think about whether to shake hands with Zayn by leaping off the bike and running off down the road.

"Harry! No!" yells Liam, and takes off after him. And even though Liam's been walking forever and Harry's been apparently lounging around on a motorcycle with his new friend, it doesn't take Liam long to get within tackling distance of Harry. So he tackles. He's not going to take any more chances.

Harry goes down easy and Liam bears him all the way to the ground. Harry's panting under him, curled to the side, his hair mussed, clothes dusty. Liam's not sure what to do, so he just stays crouched over him, trying to make sure Harry's under control. He's doesn't know how he's going to get Harry all the way back to the car, or how to keep him in the backseat while Liam deals with the engine trouble, but one thing at a time.

"You're hurting me," says Harry, in a very small voice.

Liam springs back, instantly distressed, because Harry's his _responsibility_ , and he's pretty sure Mr Styles wouldn't appreciate one of the household staff leaving bruises on his pride and joy. Instantly Harry lunges up and rolls them over, straddling Liam's hips with a crow of victory.

"You win, Harry," Liam says as calmingly and persuasively as possible. "Now let me up and let's go back to the car and go to your nice uni. Wouldn't you like that?"

"Nope." Harry grinds down a little on Liam's groin. "I'm running away with Zayn and you can't stop me." Liam groans. Only because he's upset that Harry's not cooperating, though. Harry's got one hand twisted in Liam's shirt and with the other he pets Liam's cheek. "Liiiiiiiiam," says Harry sweetly. "Are you hard, Liam?"

Liam doesn't say anything, because lying is wrong, but he wrenches himself upward to push Harry off. This is not something he'd normally have any trouble with, but then an arm locks around him from behind and it gets a bit hard to move.

"Harry," says Zayn, all pressed up against Liam's back, "you didn't say your dad's driver looked like _this_."

"It's useless, though," says Harry, still straddling Liam's lap. "He thinks it would be wrong to take advantage of me."

"Mate," says Zayn in Liam's ear, his stubble brushing Liam's jaw. "I've known Harry for all of an hour but I'm pretty sure he likes it when people take advantage."

"Harry doesn't know what's good for him," says Liam. He tries to pull away from Zayn but Zayn just grips him tighter.

"You should show him then," says Zayn.

"I'm _trying_ ," Liam yelps, frustrated.

Harry rolls his eyes. "He means show me in the sexy way. Try to keep up."

"I can't _keep up_ if you keep running away from me!"

Harry looks at Zayn over Liam's shoulder. "Isn't he sweet? Can we take him with us?"

Zayn runs a hand down Liam's torso. "Wouldn't mind. But no room on the bike."

Liam clenches his jaw. He just knows this will all end in disaster. But if it's there's only one way to keep Harry in sight, he'll take it. "I have a sidecar."

"What?" says Zayn.

"I brought a sidecar with me."

"You did not," says Zayn flatly. "That's just completely ridiculous and implausible."

"Your _face_ is implausible," says Harry. "The sidecar is just Liam. Prepared for anything." He tweaks Liam's nose and smiles sweetly. Liam smiles back. It's a stern smile though, right? It's totally a stern smile.

"Oh my god," says Zayn. "What is this day. Liam, you're gonna put out for us, right?"

"Definitely," Harry answers, when Liam can't make words.

"All right," says Zayn. "Which way to the sidecar?"

It's at this moment that a red convertible with two boys in it rolls up and stops. It might be just that Harry's still sitting on his dick and Zayn's scratching lightly at his side under his shirt, but Liam's first thought is that they're kind of cute. They turn their heads at precisely the same time and nod at Liam, Zayn, and Harry.

"Are you cheerleaders too?" says the blond one with sunglasses. "I like your formation there."

Liam can feel himself blushing.

"We're sorry to interrupt," says the driver. He slings an arm around his friend's neck and grins in a way that suggests he's not sorry at all. "Only have you got a roadmap? I think we're lost."

 

**FOUR: PRISON (one week later)**

The prison canteen is depressing to begin with, but even worse is the way Niall's pushing his mushy peas around on his plate, muttering under his breath and glaring at something at the end of the table. If Niall's in a bad mood, what hope is there for the rest of them? The thing is, Louis's got tall people on either side of him on the warped metal bench and he can't see what's got Niall so upset.

So Louis darts a quick look at the guards gathered round their telly and slides down from the bench till he's under the table. Then he hoists himself up on Niall's side, using his elbows to make room for himself. Niall gives Louis a quick squeeze and swivels his head in a way that's probably meant to be surreptitious.

"Guards aren't looking," Louis says. " _Great British Bake-Off_ 's on, I think. What's wrong, love? This is all a horrible misunderstanding, we'll be released in no time."

"I know that," says Niall. "I've already gotten over missing the championships. But in the meantime, look what Harry's got. It's _unfair_." He jerks his chin in Harry's direction. Louis gasps when he sees the sausages on Harry's plate. Niall and Louis and all the other inmates at the table have got bread and veg and not much else.

"Shut it, you two! No fraternization!" yells a guard, apparently someone who doesn't appreciate the art of sponge pudding. Louis and Niall jerk apart and stare down at the table.

"It's because Harry's been blowing one of the guards," whispers Louis out of the corner of his mouth. "Don't take it personally."

" _That_ one?" gasps Niall, jerking his head just slightly in the direction of the enormous man who'd just yelled at them.

"No! The really awful one. I think his name's Grimmy?"

"What?" Niall squeaks.

"I know, it's shocking," Louis sympathizes. "Liam keeps telling Harry to stop because he shouldn't hold himself cheap but I don't think Harry knows what he means." Louis hopes Niall won't be too traumatized by all this. He's such a sweet and trusting boy.

"Unbelievable," says Niall. Louis tries to curl his foot comfortingly around Niall's ankle. Niall kicks him and says, "I could've been eating like a king all this time! All I had to do was blow a guard and no one bothers to tell me?"

"Niall," hisses Louis. "Don't hold yourself cheap."

"Harry! Oi, Harry!" Niall calls down the table.

"No fraternizing!" yells the guard again.

Niall shrugs and makes horrible faces at Harry. Harry beams back at him. Louis sits up off the bench just high enough to grab his own plate from the other side of the table. He puts his dinner roll on Niall's plate.

"Cheers, but I couldn't," says Niall.

"I'm not hungry," says Louis.

"Oh. All right then."

Niall thanks Louis later, leaning him up against the wall of their cell with a spit-slicked hand on Louis's dick and his tongue in Louis's mouth. Niall's so enthusiastic about this kind of thing that Louis has almost stopped wondering whether Niall really likes him or just wants to get off with the future cheer captain. In present circumstances, he's not entirely sure it matters, so he closes his eyes and pulls Niall in closer and only stops kissing him when he wants to tell Niall to go faster or slower or tighter or looser or put his thumb right fucking there, yeah.

Louis drops to his knees afterwards, licks at Niall's cock carefully and a little fastidiously until Niall starts grumbling. Then Louis sucks him off for real, not caring much that Zayn and Harry are a few feet away in the cell opposite giving each other prison tattoos while Liam watches them and frets about blood poisoning. Niall pets Louis's hair and breathes in short little gasps. Louis pulls off and says, "Wish you could fuck me properly."

"Not really complaining, mate," says Niall, grinning down at him as Louis starts sucking again, using his hand to make up for what he can't fit in.

"I am," calls Liam from across the hall. "I don't think it's appropriate."

"No, but it's attractive," says Harry, and then there's a muffled sound and Louis's pretty sure someone's kissing Liam. Someone usually does when Liam complains. Louis suspects that Liam is aware of this and that's why he keeps on complaining.

Niall's hand tightens on Louis's shoulder and his hips buck forward a little. Louis moans softly, not loud enough for it to sound like fraternization to the guard down the hall, and Niall swears and comes down his throat.

"God, you've got a nice cock," says Louis, after wiping his mouth and catching his breath.

"Second the motion," says Harry, who's apparently still watching.

Zayn sighs. "Can you finish the bloody tat now they're done, Harry? Honestly, it's like you've never seen anyone suck dick before."

"Yeah, well," says Harry. "Louis and Niall make it all new again."

"Cause I'm damn good," says Louis, and tugs Niall down beside him.

"Just think," says Niall, "if you'd only blown Grimmy instead of me you'd probably have a proper fry-up for brekkie tomorrow."

Louis pats Niall's shoulder. "Let it go, babe."

They lean up against the bars of their cell door, arms around each other, and watch Harry poke carefully at Zayn's knuckles. Liam's lying shirtless on the floor with his legs up on one of the bunks, doing sit-ups. After each set of reps, Liam makes a helpful remark to Zayn and Harry about how there's a reason that real tattoo parlours are regulated by the board of health.

With Niall leaning back against him and Liam doing shirtless calisthenics, Louis's feeling relaxed and optimistic, at least until the buzzer goes off at the end of the corridor. That means everyone in the left-hand cells has got to clear out and double up with everyone on the right-hand side until their cells have been cleaned and checked for contraband. Then it's time to clean the right-hand side and the process is reversed. Louis had always thought prison would be a bit more high-security. He's learned a lot in the last week.

The sound of booted footsteps rings down the corridor. Louis is completely unsurprised to see his least favourite guard stop right in front of their cell.

"Hello, lads," says Grimmy, looking right and left. "Aren't you all looking pretty today. Except Louis, of course."

Louis glares at him and his stupid quiff and his stupid uniform that's got to be at least a size too small. Niall says, "Wrong, mate! And mean people don’t get BJs!"

"Oh," says Grimmy, unlocking the door. "Was that a plan, then?"

"Maybe," says Niall, "if it means no more bloody vegetarian dinners."

Grimmy scratches his head. "You're staying for another dinner, then."

Louis says, "We're locked _in_ , you moron, we're not on holiday. Or have you not noticed the ring of keys at your belt?"

"About that," says Grimmy, and then there's a clang at the end of the corridor.

"Look alive, Grimshaw! Have you got the side cleared yet?"

"Half a mo', Finchy!" Grimmy calls, and turns back to Louis and Niall. "On your feet, you two. Time for spring cleaning and a nice talk with your mate Harry."

Louis gets up, as slowly as possible. "I hate everything about you," he says to Grimmy.

Grimmy smiles at him. "I like your arse."

When Niall and Louis tumble into Harry, Niall, and Zayn's cell, Liam greets them happily. Zayn nods, but it seems to be his turn with the needle, so he stays focused on what he's doing to the leg Harry's got sprawled in his lap. Harry mutters a 'hiii' to Louis and Niall that sounds more like a groan. He's got his eyes half-closed, dreamy, as always when Zayn's working on him. Louis doesn't even know where Zayn got the needle or how he made the ink—Zayn doesn't really answer questions most of the time. Grimmy winks at Louis and turns the key.

"What a knob," says Louis.

Niall touches Louis's arm. "You're upset, aren't you? Look, I'll leave Grimmy to Harry, I promise."

"What?" says Louis. "You can do what you want. I don't care."

"It's okay," says Niall. "I eat too much meat anyway. Kiss me?"

Louis does, and it's gentle and sweet and he feels better already. "You're the prettiest one," Niall whispers in Louis's ear. Louis tries to remember that he wants to be somewhere really romantic when he proposes marriage, like a ski lodge or a beach, not an overcrowded prison cell. He steps back, trips over Liam, who's moved on to press-ups, and all three of them end up on the floor in a tangle.

"Sorry!" says Liam, even though Louis's the one who invaded his cell and tripped over him.

"No, _I'm_ sorry, Liam," says Louis. He really means sorry about the whole prison thing, and he should probably say so, but the words stick in his throat. He's lucky Liam doesn't seem to hold anything against him. Because Louis's pretty sure it was all his fault.

He still doesn’t quite understand how it happened, when the afternoon had been going so well. First, he and Niall had gotten off with each other, exactly according to plan. Then when they'd lost their way there'd been these three fit lads to ask for directions. All five of them had hit it off beautifully, and when it turned out they were going in the same direction, Louis couldn't stop thinking of inspirational concepts like "fate" and "cocks." For a time it had been lovely travelling together, Zayn and Harry on Zayn's bike, Liam in that handy little sidecar, and Louis and Niall driving along beside.

The trouble started with Replay. Louis had made up the game to distract Liam when he couldn't stop talking about his lost honour. Louis wasn't sure if he was referring to his job or to whatever Harry and Zayn were doing to him when Louis and Niall had driven up, but Liam seemed a lot happier once Louis started paying attention to him. In fact, Liam proved to be so good at Replay that at one point Louis just had to reach over and high-five him. The problem was that Louis reached too far and fell out of the car, and Niall, who'd been standing up to practise a cheerleading routine, was slow to grab the wheel. When he finally got hold of it, he was so rattled that he yanked it in the wrong direction. Meanwhile, Liam made a dive to rescue them both and promptly fell out of his sidecar, which unnerved Zayn enough to send him swerving off the road.

It all must have looked rather chaotic by the time the police car nosed up the hill. They'd been driving so slowly that no one was actually hurt, but the officers had arrested them all for road traffic offences anyway.

It was all very odd, including the handcuffs, which surely couldn't have been standard procedure. "I'm going to call Mr Styles," Liam had said. "He'll soon have this sorted."

"You mustn't!" said Harry. He'd been the quickest to extend his hands for the cuffs, Louis noticed. "Please, Liam. If he has to bail me out I'll never hear the end of it."

"But Harry, this is serious."

"He'll fire you, Liam, you know he will."

Liam was still shaking his head. "I'll make that sacrifice."

Harry took both Liam's bound hands in his bound hands. "Liam. _He'll give you a bad reference_." And that was the end of that conversation.

So here they all are, inexplicably serving hard time for careless and inconsiderate driving, causing danger to other road users, failure to have proper control of a vehicle, seat belt offences, and wilful obstruction of the highway. And Liam's never said a word of reproach to Louis, not one.

"Done," says Zayn, slapping the side of Harry's leg.

"God, that felt good," says Harry, opening his eyes. He doesn't take his leg off Zayn's lap.

Zayn frowns. "It's _art_ , Harry, that isn't the point."

Harry inspects the caged butterfly now adorning his left calf and kisses Zayn on the cheek. "It's very meaningful, Zayn, thank you. Symbolism is my favourite thing."

"Wow, listen to the dictionary," says Louis.

"Did you want to know what symbolism means?" Zayn asks.

"I do," says Niall. Because Niall's being polite, Louis thinks. Right? But maybe he actually wants to know what symbolism means, which would be a little disturbing, or possibly he just wants to stare at Zayn's face while he talks, which would be even worse.

Harry throws a proud arm around Zayn's neck. "When I first met you I thought you were just another bad boy biker type."

"I have hidden depths," says Zayn. "I mean, I was almost an English teacher."

"Get out!" says Louis, who can't help liking Zayn even if Niall does look at him too much. "I'm gonna be a drama teacher!" Zayn and Louis do an exploding fistbump. "I mean," says Louis, "if they let ex-felons teach children. Do you think that could be a problem?"

"Not if we escape and someone burns our paperwork," says Harry. He looks dead serious.

"I'm in," says Niall, so apparently he's forgotten his grudge about the sausages.

"Fight the power," Zayn agrees, inspecting the four dots Harry inked on his knuckles.

"Wow, it's really surprising to know we'd all rather not be in prison," says Louis, "but how exactly are we planning to make that happen?"

"Harry's a law student," says Liam, with a note of pride. "Have you got a legal strategy for us, Harry?"

"Yes," says Harry. "It's called Nick."

"Nick?"

"Grimmy."

Louis wrinkles his nose. "You call him Nick? That's actually disgusting."

Harry looks sorrowfully at Louis. "Are you too disgusted to let him bust you out of prison?"

"What," says Niall. "What what _what_?"

"In exchange for certain considerations," Harry says smugly, "Nick's arranged a daring escape plan for us and will dispose of our records once we've safely flown the coop." He looks at Zayn. "Told you I was clever."

"You have your areas of expertise," says Zayn fondly.

Louis narrows his eyes. "And what exactly is the plan? And why should we trust your boyfriend at all?"

"I prefer to think of him as my _mentor_ ," says Harry. "Look, tomorrow there'll be a jazz band in here to do music therapy. It's supposed to unlock our emotions to make us more susceptible to reform."

"I don't understand this prison at all," says Liam.

"It's progressive," says Harry. "Anyway, after the band gives their concert we're gonna switch clothing and places with them. Then we waltz out of here, and by the time the warden realises what's happened, we'll be long gone."

"Oh, man," says Liam, and Louis expects the next words out of his mouth to be something about how that's dangerous and against the rules, but instead he says, "That'll be _brilliant_."

Harry leans over and squeezes Liam's dick in an approving kind of way. Liam frowns at him and goes to sit by Zayn. Harry shrugs at Louis, arranging his face into something that was probably meant to be a wink. Louis winks back, more competently. Harry blows him a kiss. Louis doesn't mind anything about Harry except for his taste in prison guards. Still. "Why would a jazz band do that for us?"

"It's for Nick, really," explains Harry. "Just calling in a favour or something."

"Why would a jazz band do that for _Grimmy_?"

"I'm not sure," says Harry thoughtfully. "He seems to know a lot of people."

The buzzer sounds again, which means it's time to switch cells again already.

"Thank you, Harry," says Niall quickly. "I love your plan! The escape'll be class, don't you think, Lou?"

"Yeah," says Louis. "I'll believe it when I see it."

 

**FIVE: OCEAN**

It's later that night, after they all had piled into Louis and Niall's cell for the right-hand cell cleaning and Harry went into the plan in detail and Louis finally admitted that it sounded like it just might work and Harry was so chuffed to have Louis's approval that he tried to kiss Louis and Louis almost let him, and now Harry and Liam and Zayn are back in their own cell and it's time to go to sleep for the night.

The problem is, Harry thinks, trying to go to sleep the night before you break out of prison is like trying to go to sleep the night before Christmas when you're six. And it's not like the beds are particularly comfortable. There are only two of them, because it's supposed to be a two-man cell, except budget cuts apparently mean economising on cell space. Harry doesn't mind, and Zayn and Liam are getting on like a house afire. Harry kind of likes listening to them talk about music he's never heard and comics he's never read. At first, he did his best to participate. Like, he said something about Superman once that he thought was quite clever, but Zayn and Liam just looked at him for a moment and then turned back to their conversation. It's all right, though. As long as Zayn pets his hair or touches his face when Harry talks about puff pastry and yoga, Harry won't complain.

At night, Harry shares a bed with Zayn. He wouldn't mind doubling up with Liam, either, but he thinks it's only polite to give Liam his space. After all, Liam still won't do anything more with either of them than accept their kisses, even though Harry's seen the way he looks at Zayn, and maybe Harry too.

Harry stares up at the cracked ceiling and puts his hands on his shoulders, trying to feel again what it's like when Liam touches him. Always for a good reason, like he needs to get by, or Harry's got a spider on his back, but surely Liam's hands linger a bit sometimes? It's frustrating, because here they are trapped in a small space together, and while Harry gets off with Zayn on the regular, having Liam be so bashful just seems like—a waste. Harry hasn't given up, though. Sometimes when he's messing around with Zayn after the lights are off, he makes just a little more noise than necessary, just in case Liam might enjoy it.

Anyway, aside from being rejected more times than he's really used to, Harry's not having the worst time in prison. Louis and Niall are top lads, and Zayn—well, Zayn's pretty special.

"Zayn," whispers Harry. "Zayn."

"Uhhhhhh?"

"I know you're awake, Zayn, come on."

"I'm not awake," says Zayn, but he turns and slides one of his legs comfortably over Harry's. "What's wrong now?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"I can tell you're worrying, you twat."

Harry rolls his head into the mattress. It smells like Zayn. "It's just that Louis and Niall and you and Liam are depending on me and what if it doesn't work?" Harry hears rustles from the other bed, where Liam's lying alone in the dark.

"It'll work," says Zayn. "You've got Grimmy in your corner, haven't you? Unless he throws a spanner in the works so you'll stay behind. Might not want to let you go, like."

Harry shakes his head. "He's more likely to miss Lou."

Zayn snorts. "They hate each other."

"That's what you think," says Harry. "Nick's got an awful crush on Louis. Half the times he takes me out of the cell for 'rehabilitation counselling' he doesn't even touch me. We just talk about his Louis feelings instead."

"That," says Zayn, "is tragic."

"Almost as tragic as the way you and I feel about Liam," says Harry, raising his voice a little. He has a feeling Liam isn't asleep either.

"Liam's so fit," Zayn agrees, speaking slightly more clearly as well. He winks at Harry. "I like a bloke who works out."

"You should see him when he washes the car," says Harry. He doesn't look round, but the air has that electric quality that tells him someone else is listening. "Or swims in our pool."

"He's allowed to do that, is he?"

"No," says Harry, "but sometimes I push him in."

"Your kind are always abusing the help," says Zayn.

"He likes it," says Harry. "Any opportunity to get wet and take his shirt off."

There's a squeak from the other bed. Harry bites Zayn's shoulder, squirms himself a little closer, and ignores it.

"Little tease," says Zayn. "Go to sleep, can't you?"

"Can't. You should tell me a bedtime story, English teacher."

"Could you be more spoiled?"

"No," says Harry cheerfully.

"What kind of a story?"

"A Liam story," says Harry, who's starting to get a brilliant idea. "Since he's so uncooperative in real life."

"You want me to tell you a story where you finally get to fuck Liam?"

"That would be nice," says Harry.

"No way," says Zayn. "Why do you get to be the star of the story?"

"Fine," says Harry. "Tell it your way." He rolls over onto his back and pushes the thin blanket down to his waist, so Liam can see what he's missing.

"Once upon a time," says Zayn, "there was a mind-blowingly beautiful lad with a number of fine and artistic tattoos."

"It _is_ about me!"

"The boy's name, in fact, happened to be Zayn," Zayn continues. "And he had only one flaw."

"That he thought a bit too much of himself."

"No, dickhead. That he couldn't swim. So one day Zayn decided it was time to learn to swim. So he went to the beach. Alone, like a mysterious lone wolf."

"Except then he decided to take his friends," Harry interjects. "Please, Zayn?"

"Whatever," says Zayn. "Okay, if you'll shut up. He took Louis, in case he needed a heart to heart, and Niall, because he was the cutest and cuddliest, and Harry, because Harry wouldn't get off his dick, and Liam, because Liam had promised to teach him how to swim."

"That's hot," says Harry approvingly.

"Liam and Louis wanted to surf," Zayn continues, "but Zayn was a little bit nervous. Obviously Zayn was extremely brave in general, but he preferred to avoid heights, deep water, and the dark if at all possible. Luckily, Liam had brought water wings for Zayn. Of course Zayn insisted that Liam help him put them on. So Liam took off his Hawaiian shirt—"

"He took off his shirt to help you put on water wings?"

"Well, first he took off Zayn's shirt, because the two of them were about to go swimming."

"I don't know," says Harry doubtfully, "that sounds a little forward for Liam."

"This is just a character in the story who happens to be named Liam. He might not be exactly the same as the real Liam."

"Good," says Harry.

"Anyway," says Zayn, "he did teach Zayn to swim. Just the basics. Zayn stayed close to Liam for safety. Then Liam said it was time for Zayn to try floating by himself and Zayn didn't really want to but Liam flexed his muscles until Zayn stopped protesting."

"Liam wouldn't do that. He wouldn't make you do anything."

"Harry. It's a fucking story. If I want Liam to push Zayn around a little bit then that's what Liam's going to do."

Harry hears Liam take a deep breath from across the cell. "All right," says Harry. "So Liam threatened to manhandle you until you tried floating. Then what?"

"Well, Zayn didn't think he was quite ready but he bravely stretched out on his back in the water anyway. Liam kind of put his hands around Zayn's waist to make sure he stayed up, like. Then a bit later he held on to Zayn's legs to show him proper kicking technique."

"What was I doing while all this was going on?"

"You probably went to a cabin to wank or something. I mean the character named Harry did. Meanwhile, Louis and Niall were working on a new cheerleading routine in the sand and Niall kept falling over. But eventually Zayn learnt to swim, because Liam was an amazing teacher and Zayn was a quick learner, and then all the boys took off their leis and were ready to surf."

"Finally," says Harry. "Are you going to give me a turn with Liam now?"

"Nope," says Zayn. "By the way, Liam was dripping with water and probably had like a ten inch dick that showed through his swimming trunks or something."

"Not really," says Harry helpfully. "I mean, speaking as someone who's actually seen him in the water."

Zayn rolls his eyes. "It's not a competition, Harry, all right? So there they all were, lined up on their surfboards—Louis was a really good surfer by the way—"

"Was I?"

"No," says Zayn. "Harry was awkward. So when the terrible, awful thing happened, it really should have happened to him, but for some strange reason it happened to Zayn instead."

"What? What was it?"

"Zayn fell in."

"Whoa."

"Yeah. Zayn just tipped right off the surfboard and into the water and what do you think was there waiting for him?"

"Liam's ten-inch dick?"

"A SHARK."

"Oh no!" says Harry, getting into the spirit of it.

"YES. Immediately Zayn tried to use his new swimming skills to get away, but the shark was huge and had lots of teeth and Zayn started to panic. He tried to stay above the water and breathe, but like he kept swallowing water and choking and he couldn't see any of the other boys at all. ZAYN WAS GOING TO DROWN. Unless he could manage to shout—"

"'Liam, save me!'" calls Liam from the other bed.

"Oh, hey Liam, you're awake," says Harry, rolling over. Liam's sitting up in bed looking fierce and determined.

"But Zayn couldn't get enough air!" Zayn continues, delighted.

"Yes, he could!" Liam argues. "He gasped for air and just managed to yell out 'Liam!' with his last breath, and Liam, who'd obviously jumped in the water as soon as Zayn fell in, realised where Zayn was and swam right to him with incredible speed." Liam mimes swimming freestyle across the cell until Zayn yanks him onto their bed.

"Harry jumped in too," says Harry, making room for Liam, who stretches out next to Zayn.

"Right," says Zayn, "but he swam in the wrong direction. Meanwhile, Liam was at Zayn's side in a moment. Unfortunately, so was the shark." He grabs Liam's hand and gestures with it as if he's just too caught up in the thrill of the story to notice what he's doing.

"So Liam grabbed his surfboard and hit the shark over the head," Liam explains to Zayn and Harry. "The shark wasn't trained in hand-to-hand combat like Liam, so it didn't stand a chance."

"But Zayn was overcome by the shock," says Zayn. "He probably would've fainted if he wasn't so masculine."

Liam rolls his eyes. "Zayn totally fainted. Luckily Liam was there to catch him." He pulls Zayn in close to him, to demonstrate.

"Okay, he fainted," says Zayn agreeably, leaning back against Liam's bare chest. "And he didn't regain consciousness until Liam had pulled him to shore and performed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation."

"Kinky," comments Harry. He's sitting cross-legged by their feet, leaning against the wall. He's going to give Zayn every chance at Liam, because he's generous like that.

"He was only trying to save Zayn's life," says Liam. "What choice did he have?"

"Liam liked it though," says Zayn.

"He did, but he felt a bit guilty for it," says Liam, biting his lip. His hand is straying a little, Harry sees, over Zayn's hip and up his side. "Finally Zayn's eyes fluttered open."

Zayn nods. "Zayn said, 'Oh Liam, what can I do to repay you?'"

Liam thinks a minute. "And Liam said, 'oh nothing.'"

"Oh, come the fuck ON, Liam," said Harry. "Do I have to tell this story myself?"

"No thanks," says Zayn. "But you've got a point. I'm pretty sure what Liam actually said was, 'I don't know if you're really grateful. You're going to have to show me how grateful you are.'"

"What? After you've been chased by a shark and practically drowned? I couldn't say that!" Liam looks horrified.

"It's _fiction_ , Liam," Zayn hisses.

"The kind that ends in fucking," Harry adds. "In case you haven't figured that out."

Liam shrugs. He's got that stubborn look on his face. Zayn rolls away from Liam and sits up next to Harry. "But by all means, end the story with Liam receiving a lifesaving badge from the local council instead. Only that way you'll end up kissing the mayor instead of me."

Liam glares back up at him. "What do you mean, _you_? You said these were fictional characters."

"I can't hear you," says Zayn, grinning at Harry. "Did you hear anything, Harry?"

"Nope," says Harry. "Wanna mess around, Zayn?"

"Well, as long as you're dying for it," says Zayn.

"Unlike some," says Harry. He licks his lips and puts a hand on his dick, just in case Liam isn't paying close enough attention. Zayn leans in.

" _Fine_ ," says Liam, and Zayn jolts back. Harry raises his eyebrows innocently at Liam. Liam shakes his head. "I'll play your silly game. Where were we?"

"You wanted Zayn to show you how grateful he was," Harry reminds him.

Liam rolls his eyes. "Okay. So Zayn said, um, um, 'I'll do anything.' And Liam said, 'Well, could you name something? Because I'm not so great at thinking stuff up.'"

Harry puts his head in his hands.

Zayn pats Liam's thigh reassuringly. "Luckily, Zayn understood that Liam would feel more comfortable if Zayn stopped trying to have a conversation with him and just pulled him down into the sand. So he took Liam in his arms and kissed him and Liam rolled over and over in the sand with him and somehow their swimming trunks came off."

Harry listens with his feet propped up on Liam's thigh. "Have you ever actually been to the beach, Zayn? You don't want to be naked if you're actually in the sand, it gets everywhere. Trust me."

"Not this kind of sand," says Zayn. "This is sex sand. Shut up, Harry, you're killing the mood."

"Pardon me for trying to help," grumbles Harry.

"Doing fine on my own, thanks," says Zayn. "Now the question is, what was Zayn doing while the warm sand ran like silk over his bare skin without sticking to any sensitive body parts?" Zayn stares at Liam and waits for him to answer the question. Liam stares back. Zayn puts his hand down the front of Harry's pyjama bottoms. Liam's eyes follow Zayn's hand. Zayn squeezes gently at Harry's dick and Harry makes a little sound.

Liam takes a deep breath and then says, very fast, "Ithinkyouwereprobablytakingmydickandbeggingformore."

"WHAT?" says Harry. "IS THAT YOU, LIAM PAYNE?"

Liam rolls onto his back and crosses his arms under his head smugly. "It's ten inches after all."

"Liar," says Harry. "But well done you. And was all this in full view of Louis, Niall, and Harry?"

"Nope," says Zayn, "because Zayn and Liam had washed up on a different part of the beach." He slides back down next to Liam on the bed. Harry pouts at Zayn as appealingly as possible. Zayn sighs. "But when Liam and Zayn were done with the first round, they did say to each other, 'gee, I wonder where Harry is?'"

"Oh," says Harry. "Really?" He feels pathetically grateful.

"Definitely," says Liam, looking concerned. "They missed Harry. And Liam was worried because he'd swum in the wrong direction and all."

"So Liam swam out again to find Harry while Zayn took a nap," says Zayn.

"Zayn really wanted to go too, but he was honestly exhausted from all the exertion," explains Liam.

Zayn nods. "The surfing and swimming and drowning and fainting."

"And dicking," adds Liam, because apparently once Liam jumps off the inhibition cliff he doesn't climb back up.

"It's a good thing _Liam_ wasn't tired," Harry remarks.

"Yeah," agrees Liam, "because once Harry is rescued Harry's probably gonna be grateful just like Zayn was." Harry grins at him encouragingly and then feels a pressure below that's not coming from Zayn. He looks down in disbelief and sees Liam's leg between his thighs, Liam's toes nudging at Harry's dick. Liam beams at him. "Like Harry'll probably say, 'Thank you, Liam, for always taking care of me and finding me when I get lost or run away and for saving my bratty arse over and over, even though you have a much more important job to do and I'm a rotten little cocktease.'"

"Holy shit, Liam," says Zayn, watching Liam rock his foot against Harry's dick.

"I'm not sure Harry would say that," says Harry weakly. He wants to get out of his pyjamas so bad, but if he moves, Liam might stop, and that would be worse.

"You're outvoted," says Zayn, his hand trailing down Liam's stomach. "In fact that's _exactly_ what Harry said when Liam found him and brought him back to shore. Luckily, by that time I'd had my nap and I was full of energy again, so I could help."

"Help with what?" groans Harry.

"Help Liam show you what happens to brats like you." Zayn reaches Liam's waistband but he doesn't slide his hand in. Harry's very impressed by Zayn's restraint. Zayn's just brushing his hand over the front of Liam's prison-issue pyjama bottoms, thumb running along the hard line of Liam's cock. Harry wants to lick there. Preferably once Liam's naked. Oh god, Liam's going to be naked, after a fucking year of watching him work out and fix cars and carry heavy boxes in and out of Harry's hall of residence at uni. It's going to happen, right? They can't get this far and go back now.

"What does happen to brats like him?" Liam asks, without a trace of strain in his voice. But he's rolling the ball of his foot over Harry's cock a little more insistently.

"They get fucked, obviously," says Harry. " _God_ , Liam."

"You could at least pretend to be reluctant," Zayn tells him. "So Liam and Zayn pulled off Harry's swimming trunks, and Harry whimpered pathetically and attempted for unknown reasons to cover his nipples, until he was silenced by—"

"My ten-inch—" Liam starts, but he doesn't get to the end of the sentence because Harry shoves his leg aside, launches himself forward on top of him and starts kissing him. Liam lets out a surprised noise but then goes contentedly silent, putting a hand in Harry's hair and kissing him right back. Harry hears a sound of outrage, and then Zayn's pushing Harry's head away from Liam's and putting his own face there instead, because Zayn doesn't understand fair play. Harry watches him kiss Liam frantically and then decides to pull off Liam's striped jammies to keep himself occupied. What he finds isn't ten inches, but it's not bad either. Liam's hips jerk when Harry touches him.

"Oh no you don't," says Zayn when he looks up from Liam's mouth to see Harry stroking Liam's cock. "I called dibs like two days ago."

"You can't call dibs on a person," argues Harry.

"You decide, Liam," says Zayn.

Liam's mouth has fallen open as he watches Harry's thumb circle his cockhead. He says, "Decide—wait, what am I deciding, exactly?"

"Who goes first with you," Harry explains. "We're doing this, yeah? You always said no, before."

"Right. Because I thought you were just trying to make me uhhhh." Liam swallows. "Uncomfortable."

"Well, sure," says Harry. "But we also wanted on your dick."

Liam draws in a shaky breath. "And like, I didn't want to get in between you two. Since you seem to be in love and all."

"That's so sweet—"  Harry starts, before sees Zayn's horrified face.

"In love?" says Zayn.

"Yes," says Liam firmly. "But I mean, I get it now. Your relationship is too strong for someone like me to cause a problem.

Harry's still looking at Zayn's face. Zayn's not looking at him. "Relationship?" says Zayn.

"How about fucking instead of talking," says Harry, before Zayn makes any new cracks in his heart. "I've been waiting and waiting and waiting to find out what happens to brats like me."

"Put your dick in his mouth, Liam," advises Zayn. "He likes to suck." Which means Zayn's giving up his dibs and that's…kind of like love, isn't it? Harry doesn't have time to consider this further, because Liam's pulling him down between the two of them, arranging him so that he's leaning back against the wall.

"Pillow," says Harry, and Zayn rolls his eyes but hands him one to put behind his head.

Liam gets up on his knees and turns Harry's head to him. "Little cocktease," he whispers. Harry nods in agreement and licks his lips, leaving his mouth half open. Liam looks at him for a moment, his fingers firm on Harry's jaw, and then pushes his stiff cock in. Immediately Harry feels insanely hungry for it, wants to take it so deep Liam will never turn him down again, and maybe he's not doing so badly because it feels like Liam's getting even harder in his mouth. Then Liam starts moving a little, bracing himself with one arm against the wall, staring wide-eyed down at Harry, and Harry sneaks his hand down to his own dick. Not to get himself off, because he wants Zayn or Liam to do that, but just to like—acknowledge. Acknowledge that he's so fucking turned on he might possibly die.

"Just like that, yeah," says Zayn approvingly. Harry can see out of the corner of his eye that Zayn's naked now, on his knees with his cock thick in his hand, staring at Liam's cock dragging wetly past Harry's lips.

"Do you want Zayn too?" Liam whispers to Harry, but he keeps his cock in Harry's mouth, so answering in words isn't really an option. Harry stops stroking himself and tries to nod, but now Liam's holding his head steady with one hand.

"Zayn," says Liam, and Zayn shuffles a bit closer to Harry's side, his fist moving slow over his dick. Harry groans when he sees the wetness at the tip and tries to curl his tongue around the cock already in his mouth. "Ssh, Harry," says Liam, and pushes a little deeper. "Zayn, do you—do you want to share?"

"Yeah," says Zayn. "Cheers," and he leans forward to kiss Liam even as he fumbles at the hinge of Harry's mouth, slipping his thumb in past Harry's stretched lips, alongside Liam's cock.

Harry sucks in air through his nose, heart pounding, and watches Liam and Zayn kissing above him, mouths open and messy, Zayn not even looking at Harry as he withdraws his thumb and angles his cock down to nudge at Harry's lips. Liam gasps and breaks the kiss when Zayn's cock bumps against his, and Zayn's eyes go back to Harry's mouth. Zayn presses his fingers to Harry's swollen cheek. "My turn," he says, and Liam pulls slowly out.

Harry coughs, takes a deep breath, reaches for Zayn's cock. He pulls at it a little impatiently. "More. Now."

"Brat," says Zayn fondly. "Take it, then." He pushes into Harry's open mouth with an odd gentleness and lets Harry set the pace, waiting for him to suck instead of thrusting for his throat. Harry sucks shallowly at first, fingers holding Zayn's cock at the root, using his tongue the way he's learnt Zayn likes it. Liam starts to sit back, give them space. Harry can't help whimpering a little, because he doesn't want that, he needs them both. Zayn hears him and reaches out for Liam. "Stay with us, Liam," says Zayn, and then he's using the hand that's not on Harry's jaw to work Liam's cock.

"Zayn," says Liam hoarsely, and then, " _Harry_." Which is when Zayn brings Liam's cock back to Harry's lips. Harry forgets technique and tries to open his mouth wider, wants to take them both at once, but it's too much to manage and their cocks are big and slippery at his lips. He settles for going from one to the other, eyes closed, and he hears the noises of them kissing while he sucks, breathing raggedly through his nose, spit dripping from his lips.

"Gonna—" he hears Liam groan.

Zayn says, "Come in his mouth," and then it's Liam's cock plunging in deep again, and Zayn's voice saying, "Open your eyes. Harry, Harry, fuck, open your eyes," and Harry does, just in time to see Zayn's cock jerk over him, his come streaking over Harry's cheeks and lips, over the part of Liam's cock that doesn't fit in Harry's mouth. Liam cries out and thrusts deep, once, twice, and then there's a sudden bitterness on Harry's tongue and Liam's cock is gone.

Harry shuts his eyes again, swallows. He feels a curious finger on his cheek, a breath across his cheek, and then someone's lips brushing his. Liam. "Are you okay?"

Harry grins up at Liam. "Don't think I'll ever run away from you again." The words come out in a raspy whisper.

"You're really—" Liam starts, and stops. "Um, I don't actually think you're a rotten little cocktease."

"I do," says Zayn, from somewhere lower down, and then Harry feels Zayn's teeth lightly skate up the length of his dick.

"Fuck," says Harry. "Zayn, Zayn, _Zayn_."

"He's got you," says Liam, and pushes Harry's sweaty fringe off his forehead. "I'll just. I, um."

Harry doesn't know what he's trying to say, and he doesn't much care, either, because now Zayn's whole mouth is on Harry's dick, hot and purposeful, his hands holding Harry's hips to the bed. Liam's still bent low, fingers smearing through the mess on Harry's cheeks. He kisses him again, tongue flicking out around Harry's lips, and Harry doesn't need detailed narration to understand. He asks anyway. "You kissing me, or tasting Zayn?"

"I can do both," says Liam. "I can do a lot of things."

"I knew that," says Harry, and breaks off to moan at what Zayn's doing to him right now. "I knew it all along."

Later, when Zayn's finished with Harry and Liam's gotten Harry's face clean with a combination of his tongue and a corner of someone's pyjamas, and they're lying in a mixed-up, somewhat sticky heap, Liam says, "So I guess that's the end of the bedtime story."

"Yeah, I just have one question about that story," says Harry. "What were Louis and Niall doing all that time?"

 

**SIX: SHIP**

Once Zayn, Liam, and Harry had cleared out, Niall and Louis had taken their thin, bumpy mattresses off their bunks as usual and pushed them together on the floor. Niall had had the idea the first night they'd spent in prison, because Louis'd been in the worst mood and the only way Niall knew to make anyone feel better was to hug them a lot, and you couldn't do that from opposite sides of a cell. He'd told Louis it would just be a one-night thing, until they'd got used to life in prison, and then the next night he'd told Louis he was cold, and they needed to conserve body heat under the thin prison-issue blankets, and then the next night he'd just tugged the mattresses down to the floor and not bothered to justify it. Louis hadn't protested.

Now Louis is lying on his back next to Niall, and Niall can tell by the rigidity of Louis's body next to his that it's going to be a while before Louis will relax and let sleep come. From the cell across the hall Niall can hear the usual murmuring and rustling, maybe a little louder than usual.

"Do you think it's just Zayn and Harry?" asks Niall. "Or does Liam join as well?"

"Fool if he doesn't," says Louis. "Could be his last chance before we're out of here."

"Then you think—" Niall hesitates. "You think it's gonna work? Harry's plan?"

"Impersonate a jazz band when only one of us can really play an instrument and then leave without the warden noticing? Sure, why not?" Louis's voice cracks a little bit.

"You're worried."

"No," says Louis, and inches a little closer to Niall.

"Harry said with Grimmy helping nothing can go wrong."

Louis snorts. Niall sighs and curls himself up to Louis with his head on Louis's shoulder. "Let's talk about what we're going to do when we get out of here."

"Go on holiday," says Louis. "Maybe skiing."

"All right," says Niall. "Only I can't ski very well."

Louis shrugs. "Not the point, is it? You'll still be all bundled up with snow in your hair."

"You'll throw snowballs at me and push me over."

"I won't," says Louis loyally. "I'll only do that to the others, and you can help. What do _you_ want to do when we get out of here?"

"I dunno," says Niall. "Go back to uni, I guess."

"Yeah," says Louis. "And see who won the championships. Only—"

"What?"

"I'd miss Zayn and Liam and Harry, I think."

"All right then," says Niall agreeably, "let's all join the circus instead. You can be a trapeze artist and Liam can be a strongman and Harry can—" he stops to think. "Harry can sell popcorn, I guess. Zayn can ride his motorcycle across a tightrope."

Louis shakes his head. "Zayn'd hate that. Heights." His face is lighting up and he's starting to fidget, which means his worried mood is probably passing. Niall's glad. "Sailors!" says Louis at last. "We'll run away to sea!"

"Really?"

"Really and truly except not at all," says Louis. "We'll wear sailor suits with little bows and scramble around on the whatsit, the rigging. Zayn can stay on deck and write poetry about the ocean. Maybe someone can be whipped across the yardarm."

"Ow!" Niall says.

Louis gives him a quick squeeze. "Not you. If anyone tried to hurt you I'd punch them. I have muscles, have I shown you my muscles lately?"

"Yes," says Niall. "You'd look hot in a sailor suit. Maybe a little hat. Do sailors wear hats?"

"If you want," says Louis. He grins at Niall and Niall scoots up and kisses him. He kind of still can't believe Louis likes him. Only it might be because they're cellmates now and Louis hasn't got another choice. Possibly Louis won't want to keep messing around with him once they get back to school.

"Tell me more," says Niall, because if this Louis thing is only situational and about to be over, he's going to make the most of it.

"About you and your little sailor hat?" says Louis. He runs his fingers up Niall's side, tickling a little. "I'm onto you, Nialler. You pretend to be all shy but I can see for myself you're dying for attention."

"Louis…" Niall thinks he's probably blushing. "Never mind then."

"Oh no," says Louis. "I'm going to give you what you want."

"Already do," says Niall under his breath.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing!" says Niall.

"Once upon a time," says Louis, "there was a sailor whose name was Niall, and he was so cute it was actually obnoxious. He had four sailor friends. One of them was extremely clever."

"Zayn," guesses Niall.

"His name was Louis," says Louis. "What's with you and Zayn, anyway? Are you into him or something?"

Niall shrugs. "Do I have eyes?"

Louis says, "Do you ever feel that complete and perfect beauty might actually get kind of boring eventually? I'm just throwing that out there hypothetically."

"Do you want to talk about Liam doing sit-ups instead?" asks Niall.

"No," says Louis, "I'm in the middle of a story. About Niall's sailor friend named Louis who was very witty and made Niall laugh all the time and could climb all the way up into the crow's nest in the blink of an eye."

"It probably took Niall longer," says Niall.

"Yeah," says Louis, "but that's okay, because Louis shouted encouragement from above and when Niall actually made it up there they'd sit next to each other and pretend to be looking out for enemy ships but actually Louis would be thinking about whether it would be too dangerous to snog one hundred feet above sea level."

"Were Niall and Louis together?"

"No," says Louis. "I mean, their hammocks were next to each other and Louis sometimes let Niall have some of his share of grog and hardtack but it never really went further than that."

"Huh. I wonder why Louis doesn't just tell Niall to suck his dick. I've heard that works well."

"He can't," says Louis firmly, "because sodomy is forbidden in the Royal Navy."

"Really?" says Niall. He doesn't keep up with politics much but if that were true he's pretty sure he would have heard.

"This is like an old-timey ship," says Louis. "Like a million years ago and we're at war with France."

"I'm on France's side," Niall objects. "I wouldn't have taken service on an English ship."

"You were press-ganged onto it," says Louis, rolling his eyes. "Every once in a while you retreated into a corner with the other Irish sailors to complain in Gaelic, and Louis would feel left out."

"Louis had nothing to worry about," says Niall.

Louis pinches Niall's nipple. "It's hard not to worry when you have a tragic love."

"Wow," says Niall. "How is all that any better than being in prison?"

"Just wait," says Louis. "Anyway, Louis was still hopeful that one day Niall would realise that Louis could be more to him than a friend who was hilarious, helpful, and ridiculously fit."

Niall thinks about this. "It sounds like Louis liked himself more than he liked Niall. Maybe he just needed to wank."

"Louis wanted to tell Niall all the ways he liked him," said Louis quietly, "but it was hard to explain. It's like when it's been cold and rainy for a really long time and the weather forecast is for sunny intervals but those intervals never come and then one day you walk out of your flat and the sun is shining and your skin is warm all over and the sunny interval lasts all day long. That was Niall."

Niall buries his face in Louis's stomach and says something Louis probably can't hear.

"Don't get excited, Nialler," says Louis. "It's just a story."

So Niall blows a raspberry on Louis's stomach.

"Anyway, one day," says Louis, "the ship was attacked by a sea serpent with a thing for blonds. It went straight for Niall with its hideous fangs. Luckily, Louis and Liam and Zayn were there, so they fought it off while Niall and Harry clung to each other in fear."

Niall considers this. "That's not fair. I would help! Like I could cheer you on. And I would teach the cheer to Harry so he could help too!"

Louis pats Niall. "All right then. Harry cheered so hard that Liam took his shirt off. Louis delivered the final blow with a nearby spar and the monster sank back into the ocean and Niall was saved."

"My heroes," says Niall.

"What a coincidence," says Louis, "because that's exactly what Niall said in the story. And then he kissed Zayn on the cheek to thank him even though Louis had probably done most of the work and that broke Louis's heart."

"Even though it was only on the cheek?"

"Even though," says Louis firmly. "And then Captain Grimmy said everyone would have shore leave for twenty-four hours to celebrate the destruction of the sea monster."

"Excellent!" says Niall. "Now Louis will have a chance to share his feelings!"

"No," says Louis, "because Louis saw Niall jumping up and down with the other lads and even throwing his arms around Captain Grimmy and he realised that what he had thought were Niall's feelings for him personally might just be Niall's love for everybody and it made him feel a bit ill, so he said he'd stay on board and guard the ship while everyone else went out and had fun."

"What?" says Niall. "He did not."

"Yes," says Louis. "He retreated to his hammock and wondered whether he was gaining weight."

"Are you kidding," says Niall. "This story is the worst."

"I'm sorry you can't handle emotional complexity," says Louis.

Niall frowns. "I just want you to be happy."

"But the story isn't over!"

"I don't trust you to tell it anymore," says Niall. " _I’m_ gonna tell it."

"Oh my god, fine," says Louis, sulking.

Niall takes a deep breath. "Louis was sulking in his hammock when all of a sudden Niall walked in! And Niall said 'hey Louis!' And Louis said 'hey Niall!'"

"That's quite an ear for dialogue you've got," says Louis.

"Thanks!" says Niall. "So Niall said, 'Hey Louis, I really wish you'd come on shore leave with us! Harry's taking us to a whorehouse, he says the floor show is totally sick!'"

Louis raises an eyebrow. "Pretty sure they didn't say 'sick' like that back then."

Niall shrugs. "So Louis said, 'I don't know what you mean by your strange futuristic words but I feel like spoiling the party so I'm not going anywhere.' And Niall said, 'Well, in that case I'm not going either. And neither are Liam or Zayn or Harry! We're going to stay right here aboard ship and cheer you up.' Then Louis was like, 'I'm very dramatic and I'm going to go throw myself off the side of the boat!' And Niall was like, 'Absolutely no way, we're all going to have sex instead!'"

"Okay, stop right there," says Louis. "You're not allowed to tell the story anymore."

Niall rolls his eyes. "And then when Louis pretended to be reluctant, Niall said, 'Look mate, I'm not sure if party drugs have been invented yet so the only way to cheer you up is a gangbang!'"

"Oh, well, obviously," says Louis dryly. "And navy regulations?"

"Everyone else was ashore," says Niall, "and anyway Niall checked with Captain Grimmy and he totally didn't mind and didn't want to whip anyone except—"

"Never mind," interrupts Louis. But Niall thinks he can see the beginnings of a smile.

"So the boys took Louis up on deck, under the stars, and then they told him to take his clothes off."

"Wait," says Louis. "Why do I have to take my own clothes off when I have you lot to do it for me?"

"Because we're missing out on the stripshow at the whorehouse! It's the least you can do."

"Fine," grumbles Louis, so Niall figures that's permission to keep going. Which is good, because now a lot of ideas are tumbling around in Niall's head and he's planning to keep telling his story regardless. He sits up straight so he can concentrate better. Louis's looking up at him with an expression that's either exasperated or affectionate; sometimes Niall finds it hard to tell the difference.

He tugs on one of Louis's ears and continues. "The boys were arguing over who got to go first with Louis. But Niall was in charge, so—"

"You're in charge? That seems out of character."

"You don't know everything about me," says Niall. "Anyway, so Niall decided that Zayn would go first."

"Why?"

Niall squeezes Louis's hand. "So that maybe Louis could get it through his thick head that Niall wasn't after Zayn himself."

"Hmmm," says Louis.

"So Zayn bent Louis over the yardarm and greased him up with, like, historical old-timey lube. Then he stuck it in! It was incredible!"

"See, this is what I'm talking about," says Louis. "Zayn's dick game is completely theoretical to you and you're still getting carried away."

"Meanwhile," says Niall, "Zayn whispered to you about how even though you're beautiful and amazing he's emotionally committed to Liam and Harry, and how when Niall kisses him on the cheek it's totally platonic for both of them."

"Right," says Louis, still looking sulky.

"Well, in the story Louis wasn't so hard to please, so immediately he started to feel better."

"Let's just move on," says Louis.

"I am! Okay, then Liam sat you up on a stack of crates and he did you from the front with your legs wrapped around his waist and your dick rubbing up against him with every thrust."

"I don't mind this story as much as I thought," says Louis. "Go on."

Niall grins and starts circling his thumb over one of Louis's nipples. "You threw your head back and Liam started kissing your neck and your throat. Meanwhile Niall was rubbing your back to encourage you, because unlike some, he wasn't the jealous type."

"Um," says Louis. "That's pretty detailed." His nipples have tightened up and his hand has begun to snake into Niall's lap.

"Yeah," says Niall. "Then it was Harry's turn, and he put you on your knees on the blankets that Liam spread out so that no one would get a splinter. Harry, let's see, Harry gave it to you pretty hard."

"Harry topped? Are you sure?"

"Way to interfere with the gangbang momentum," complains Niall. "Yes, he did, Mr Fussy. Any other questions?"

"Just one," says Louis, tugging at the waistband of Niall's pyjamas. "Have I come yet? In the story, I mean."

"Let me think," says Niall, and he goes ahead and wriggles his bottoms off. With his cock free, the only reasonable course of action seems to be to turn and press it into Louis's side. "I think you came with Liam but not with Harry because I'm going to want you to come again with me and you'll have needed time to rest."

"Why are you going last?" Louis's pushing off his pyjamas as well.

"Because," says Niall patiently, "the one who loves you the most always goes last."

Then Louis turns to face him and Niall slips his knee between Louis's legs. Louis makes a small sound and reaches out for Niall's dick so that both their cocks are hot and hard in Louis's hand. "Niall…how do you do it, how do you have me?

"I lean back against, like, the crates or the side of the ship or whatever," says Niall, letting his hand travel over Louis's hip and around to his arse, squeezing gently. "You get on your knees and sink down on my dick, and you're like, still pretty tight somehow, and you feel—god, Louis, I know you feel amazing. You grind on me while I jerk you off, and—you're looking deep in my eyes, and you finally get it."

"Get what?" Louis's eyes are dark.

"How I feel about you," whispers Niall. "Roll over, Louis. On your stomach."

"Since when are you so bossy?" asks Louis. Still, he follows instructions. Niall looks at the sweet curves of him, body pale in the dimness of their cell, and swallows hard. Then he straddles Louis's bum, feeling pretty proud of himself for not just grinding himself into Louis like a fucking madman. Like, Louis's smooth and pliant underneath him but all Niall does is kiss the nape of his neck and then bite there. Louis turns his head for another kiss, eyes closed, mouth more trusting than his words will ever be. Niall kisses him a little awkwardly, on the side of his mouth, and then starts licking his way down Louis's spine, Louis squirming under his hands. "Hold still," says Niall, thumbs digging into his back.

"Fuck, Niall…" Louis's voice comes out slow.

"I'm just kissing you, Louis." Niall mouths at the bumps of his spine, licking in small circles. When he gets to the small of Louis's back, he repositions himself so that he's kneeling between Louis's legs. Louis's rolling his hips into the mattress already. "It's okay," says Niall, "I'm gonna take care of you," and he licks right at the base of Louis's spine, the dip where the perfect rise of his arse begins.

"Wait," says Louis, when Niall spreads him instead of kissing his way back up his spine. "Niall, you can't just—"

"Sure I can," says Niall. "Come on, Louis, I love it, please."

"Oh god," says Louis. He doesn't say yes but Niall licks a little further down and all Louis does is moan, so Niall doesn't stop. By the time Niall gets to his hole, Louis is whimpering and his arse is quivering and Niall can tell he's trying really hard not to push back into Niall's face. Niall squirms his hand under Louis, Louis lifting his hips to help Niall get a grip on his dick. Then Niall presses his tongue against Louis's hole. Louis gasps, his cock twitching in Niall's grasp, and Niall starts to lick. The sounds Louis makes are the sounds of a fucking angel choir, as far as Niall's concerned. Niall feels hot all over. "On your knees, Louis, can you—I want to—"

And Louis lets Niall tug his hips up; he slides his knees under him and raises his arse to Niall with his head still cradled in his arms. He breathes raggedly as Niall works at his hole with his tongue. "Niall," he moans. "Niall, please."

"You want me to fuck you?" Niall says. "You said before you wanted—I'll get you so wet, I'll open you up, I'll go slow—" He pushes in with the tip of his tongue and Louis's cock jerks and he actually wails.

"Ssh," says Niall.

"Get your fucking mouth off me if you want me to shush," gasps out Louis harshly. "Yeah, fuck me. No, don't. Oh my god."

"What?" says Niall. He slathers a finger in spit and experimentally presses it a little ways in.

"No," says Louis, more firmly, but he's pushing back onto Niall's finger, hot and tight.

"Lou," says Niall hoarsely. He licks again at the pink whorl where his finger's disappearing. "You want it, god, I wanna get in you, please."

"Not—no," chokes out Louis. "Just get my fucking dick wet, will you?" Niall withdraws his finger reluctantly, feeling a real twinge or something down below, like his cock knows it's getting turned down, but okay. It's not like they have lube and he might not be huge but he's not small either, and he doesn't want to hurt Louis, no matter how much it feels like the universe is trying to tell him he needs to be up Louis's arse right now. So he takes his hand off Louis's cock, and reaches it up to Louis's mouth, leaning along his body. Louis licks his palm and sucks his fingers in. Niall grinds against Louis's bum, can't help it, and Louis wails again.

"Louis," says Niall urgently, in case he's changed his mind. "You're making me fucking crazy here."

Louis takes Niall's wet hand and puts it back on his cock. "Shut up and get me off."

"Jesus," says Niall, but he doesn't argue. Louis's cock is heavy-hot and dripping, and he's pushing it into Niall's fist with short, sharp jerks of his hips. But he doesn't stop shoving back against Niall's dick either, and Niall inches closer, pressing his hard-on into the cleft of Louis's arse where it's still wet with Niall's spit, tightening his hand on Louis's cock at the same time.

"Niall…" Louis warns.

"Not gonna try to fuck you, I promise. Just wanna, just let me rub on you, yeah? Your arse is—"

"I fucking know, all right? Whatever, just keep—just keep—"

"Yeah," says Niall, and jacks Louis's cock as best he can, holding Louis's hip with the other hand and rutting up against Louis with clumsy desperation. There's a moment when his cockhead catches against Louis's hole and Niall could swear that Louis whimpers when it happens, but he dutifully repositions himself so he's just sliding between Louis's arsecheeks, trying to get as much friction as possible. Meanwhile, he keeps up a rhythm with his hand until Louis is moaning quietly and steadily, and then Louis's hips get stuttery, his movements ragged. " _Yeah_ , Lou," says Niall, and Louis's whole body tenses, his arse clenching. His back is gleaming with sweat. Niall licks Louis's spine, tastes salt, feels dizzy, keeps moving in stupid thrusts against Louis's backside.

"You can come on me," Louis chokes out, and then he's spilling into Niall's hand, gasping out his name.

Niall swears and ruts up against Louis one more time. Then he brings his messy hand back to his own dick and pulls at himself, fast and rough, staring down at Louis's trembling body.

Louis turns his head, his fringe stuck to his forehead, lips red like he's been biting them. "Do it, Niall, all over me."

"Fuck," says Niall. "Fucking _fuck_ ," and then he comes hard, shooting over Louis's arse and lower back.

There's a pause. Niall likes the way his come looks spattered on Louis's skin. A little regretfully, he grabs a blanket to clean Louis up, but Louis turns to his side, out of reach, before Niall can get there. Niall tips over sideways too, facing Louis. His knee is killing him. Louis reaches out to touch Niall's face. "You're fucking pushy, you know that?"

"You're the one who wanted me to—" but he breaks off, shrugs, when he sees Louis's face. "Never mind."

Louis rolls onto his back, yawns. "You're getting jizz all over the mattress," says Niall.

"S'ok," says Louis. "We're running away to sea tomorrow, remember?" He reaches over to Niall. "C'mere."

Niall scooches over to Louis with a sigh. "You're perfect, Lou. Fucking gorgeous."

"That's you," says Louis, a little groggily. Then, suddenly, "I did want you. You know that, right?"

Niall strokes Louis's chest gently. "Yeah. It's okay."

"It's just," says Louis. "It's just I want our first time doing that to be special. Not in a prison, not on the floor. Like I want, I don't know, a real date and a nice bed. You know?"

"Actually," says Niall, "I thought you just wanted lube."

"Well," says Louis. "That would be nice too. All the nice things. I'd give you, like, flowers or whatever."

Niall nods. "It's only, I mean. I just didn't expect you to feel that way. Because our first time was actually a front seat blowjob."

"But I didn't know until then," says Louis. "I didn't know how I really felt about you till you already had your head in my lap."

"Wow," says Niall. "Romantic."

"Yes," says Louis. "Don't be an arse about it."

Niall wraps his arm tight around Louis. "I'm just really happy we're going to keep doing this. That's what you're saying, right?"

Louis pinches Niall. "I fucking _like_ you, you moron."

"That's awesome!" says Niall happily. He kisses him on the cheek, a loud, enthusiastic smack. "I fucking like you, too."

 

**SEVEN: SKIS (three months later)**

Zayn sits by the fire in his comfortably disintegrating armchair, watching the snow fall outside the window of his mountain cabin.

"It's gonna clear soon," he tells the puppies sprawled in a heap at his feet, but Bruce and Tony don't seem interested by this news. Zayn sighs. It's not like he needs people or anything, but sometimes he wouldn't mind having someone about who could answer in words. He stares at the dots Harry tattooed on his knuckles to remind himself that he's not going soft. He used to be just fine on his own for months at a time, he remembers. Just getting off the open road for long enough to break a heart or two and then moving on. That's why after the escape he didn't think twice before saying good-bye.

He'd told Louis good luck with the education thing and Niall good luck with the guitar thing (it was really down to Niall that the whole jazz band disguise had worked at all) and both of them good luck with the cheerleading. He'd told Harry to go back to uni and Liam to take good care of him and then he'd turned around and walked away, ignoring the strange new pain in his chest. That was before the leaves had started to turn. Now it's winter, and it's still hard to go a day without thinking of Liam's smile or Harry's dimples or the way their hands felt on his body or how they'd all danced together, that last day at the prison, before sneaking out a side door and leaving music and confusion in their wake.

Usually when he feels like this he updates his twitter, so Zayn pulls his phone out of his pocket.

_@wintersoldier53_

_Snow reminds us of the solitude of the soul :) x_

_@wintersoldier53_

_Is it possible to have more than one soulmate on the journey of life?_

_@wintersoldier53_

_@53fan sure send the pics. i already added you._

 

Then he argues with someone on his favourite comics message board and checks the comments on the YouTube channel where he occasionally uploads one of his R&B demos. Zayn looks up and sees that the snow has stopped falling. He nudges at Bruce's belly with his toe, and Bruce yawns without waking up. Zayn gets up and pads over to the cabin door and opens it to get a little air.

The treeless slope spread out below him is pure white, nothing to mar its perfect beauty. Nothing except—the two figures struggling up the slope in the distance.

God _damn_ it. All Zayn needs is two would-be skiers who think it's a challenge to take on an untouched, uncommercial slope. Half of them end up knocking on his cabin door and asking for hot cocoa, and then instead of barking viciously and scaring them away like they're supposed to, Bruce and Tony just jump all over whoever it is and make friends. Zayn slams the door quick, before anyone sees him, and goes back into the cabin. The fire's getting low, so he throws on another log. Tony cocks his head and makes a grumbling noise. Then he shakes and gets to his feet. This wakes up Bruce, who butts his head into Tony's stomach and then scrambles up as well. Both of them walk slowly and lazily over to the door and stand there, wagging their tails.

"You can't go out right now," Zayn tells them.

They bark happily and start pushing at the door with their noses, because they're dumb.

"Ssssh! It's very dangerous out there for puppies. You could fall into a drift of snow and I'd never see you again." Zayn gets down on the floor with them and starts petting them, trying all his best distraction tricks.

Bruce pushes at Zayn's chin with his nose and hits his tail against the door. Tony tries leaping against the door and collides with Bruce. They both bark even louder.

"Fuck it," says Zayn, reaching for his boots. "All right. Just don't talk to anyone and don't make friends, you hear me? NO FRIENDS."

The puppies look at him like they understand completely and Zayn sighs and opens the door. Bruce and Tony leap out, yipping excitedly, and promptly fall into snow drifts.

"I like your dogs!" calls an oddly familiar voice, and Zayn turns to see two ridiculous jumpers and two sets of delighted blue eyes.

"What," says Zayn. "I mean—" but then Louis and Niall are hurling themselves at him and down they go into the snow. Just when Zayn is deciding to disentangle himself, Bruce and Tony get involved, and by the time they've all sorted themselves out, the three of them are covered in snow and Niall's rolled a little ways down the slope and is scratching Bruce's belly.

"Thought you could hide from us, yeah?" says Louis, and shoves a little more snow down Zayn's neck.

"Well—" says Zayn. He looks over to where Tony is licking Niall all over his face. "How did you find me?"

Louis snorts. "Not so hard, _winter soldier_. Or should I call you _x_Talia_x_?"

"The Internet is anonymous!" Zayn objects.

"Well," says Louis, "it's certainly obvious that you think so. By the way, _x_Talia_x_ , queen of the message boards, how does it feel to be wrong about everything?"

Zayn folds his arms and tries to look dignified with snow in his hair. "What do you know about Batman canon?"

Louis shrugs. "I don't. But we backread all your posts and Liam explained all the ways you were wrong. He seemed to know what he was talking about."

Zayn's heart makes a wild, stupid leap. "You're in touch with Liam?"

"He helped us find you. Harry too."

"Oh," says Zayn, trying to play it cool. "Okay, whatever."

"'Okay, whatever,'" mimics Louis, clutching his heart. "Niall, look at Zayn, he's got his Liam and Harry smile on."

Niall grins and starts wallowing through the snow towards them. "God, he's adorable," says Louis to Zayn. "Look at him all bundled up with snow in his hair."

"Yeah," says Zayn.

"Don't even try it, he's mine," Louis adds quickly. He reaches out to pull Niall in.

"Right," says Zayn. Louis's so weird sometimes. "Um—how are Harry and Liam doing, anyway?"

Niall says, "They're brilliant, mate. You can ask them yourselves in a minute. They're meeting us here." He points up at the sky and Zayn realises he can hear the hum of a helicopter in the distance.

"Is that—?"

"Yep," says Niall proudly. "Liam flies helicopters now. And Harry made honour roll, by the way. Because Liam told him to."

"His dad's dead proud," says Louis. "Although he's still mad at Liam for quitting. But Liam said he couldn't look Mr Styles in the eye anymore when he was having phone sex with Harry on a regular basis."

Niall pulls off Louis's navy blue beanie. "Liam didn't actually say that!

"More or less," says Louis. "He thought it was wrong to work for someone and corrupt their son at the same time."

"Liam was corrupting _Harry_?" Zayn tries to imagine how that could possibly work.

"Well," says Niall. "He was a distraction at a time when Harry was meant to be revising for his criminal justice seminar. So he went off to learn helicopters instead."

"Huh," says Zayn. "How do you know all this?"

"We all Skype a lot," explains Louis. "I mean, prison was like a formative bonding experience for us, but I guess you didn't notice."

"I—noticed," says Zayn. There's a lump in his throat. He's five minutes from seeing Liam and Harry again, after thinking they'd parted ways forever. He feels a bit wobbly on his legs, although that's probably just the snow. He wonders if Liam and Harry are a real couple now.

Louis bumps his shoulder against Zayn's, and as if he senses Zayn could use a change of subject, says, "Niall and I _didn't_ make honour roll, thanks for asking. We took our squad to two tournament victories, though." He and Niall strike a pose, arms above their heads. "We'll do a routine for you later, if you want. There was an article said we were the future of English cheerleading."

"English slash Irish cheerleading," corrects Niall.

"Before you guys, I didn't even know England had cheerleaders," mumbles Zayn, his eyes on the helicopter. It's so close to the ground now that he can make out Liam in the cockpit. Liam waves at him wildly. Then Harry's beanie-clad head pops up and he's waving too. Zayn stares.

"You're clutching your face, bro," Louis remarks. "You're really gone for them, aren't you?"

"I told you and told you, Lou," says Niall.

The noise is deafening, the helicopter almost directly overhead, and then it banks and starts descending just behind Zayn's cabin. Bruce and Tony go positively mental.

Niall's tugging at Zayn's shoulder. "Come on, Zayn. Let's go see."

Zayn peels his fingers off his face and nods. Then he follows Niall and Louis around the side of the cabin. Liam and Harry are emerging from the helicopter, Liam stepping out neatly and Harry tumbling cheerfully into the snow. Both of them yell, "Zayn! Zayn!" And god, Zayn had forgotten how deep Harry's voice is and how broad Liam's shoulders are. He stumbles toward them, not even bothering to keep the grin off his face. When he falls right into both of them, Liam holds him up, and their arms are around him, and Zayn's never been so happy in his life.

Louis and Niall whistle and shout. Zayn lifts his head from Liam's chest and pulls a lock of Harry's hair. "You weren't supposed to find me," he says.

"If you didn't want us to find you, you wouldn't have started a YouTube channel," says Liam. "Nice tracks, by the way. The Frank Ocean cover is my favourite."

"Liam's good at finding people," says Harry, rubbing his head against Liam's cheek.

"Anyway," says Liam. "You're not as much of an alone wolf as you think you are."

" _Lone_ wolf," corrects Zayn.

Liam shrugs. "That's what I said."

"I missed you," says Zayn suddenly. He didn't really mean to say anything of the kind.

"Of course you did!" shouts Louis from behind them. "Come on, Zayn, you inviting us in or what?"

"Oh," says Zayn. "Um. You lads want hot cocoa?"

So they troop inside and get snow all over Zayn's neat wooden flooring and faux bearskin rug, and throw their hideous jumpers all over Zayn's furniture, and Zayn pulls out his phone.

 

_@wintersoldier53_

_The solitude of the soul is an illusion, like everything else x_

 

Then he goes into the kitchen to make the cocoa.

After they've had their cocoa and some banana pancakes that Harry insists on making, Louis and Niall half in each other's laps and Liam and Harry feeding each other forkfuls of pancake with a level of affection that makes Zayn feel a little wistful, Liam jumps up and tells everyone that it's time to go skiing.

"Are you kidding," groans Niall.

"Nialler," says Liam. "I brought skis for you and I intend to see you use them."

Harry says, "Zayn, can you ski?"

"Yeah—" Zayn begins, and then feels Liam's hand on his shoulder and changes his mind. "I can't, actually. Liam, can you teach me?"

"Deffo," says Liam happily. "I brought an extra pair of skis just in case. Don't worry about a thing." Then he's out the door to fetch the equipment.

Harry dissolves in giggles as soon as Liam's gone. "Watch out for the polar bears, Zayn!"

"I intend to," says Zayn stiffly.

"What are you guys talking about?" Niall wants to know.

"Nothing," says Harry, and climbs onto Zayn. "Didja miss my dick too, Zayn? Or is this—" his hand is busy in Zayn's lap "—all for the ski instructor?"

"Oh, so you're still a brat," says Zayn.

"You know who misses your dick, Harry?" says Louis. "That prison guard, Grimmy. He just followed me on twitter. Isn't that weird?"

"Not really," says Harry, and leans forward to flick his tongue into Zayn's ear. "You sure you want a skiing lesson right away, Zayn? Because we could—"

The door slams, and Zayn looks up. Liam's stood there with his arms full of skis. He's smiling but his face looks a little—sad? "We don't have to ski," he says. "If you two want to—"

"Of course we'll ski," says Zayn quickly. "I always wanted to learn. Living up here in a mountain cabin and all."

Harry nods enthusiastically. Louis looks from Liam to Zayn and Harry. "That's right. You and I were going to race, Liam, remember?"

"Right," says Liam, and his face clears a little. "Wanna borrow a jumper, Zayn?"

As it turns out, skiing with the four of them is as great as traveling with them or breaking out of prison with them. Zayn takes them to a side of the mountain that's mostly shallow slopes and Liam's a very patient teacher, especially when he arranges Zayn's arms and legs to show him the correct stance. Meanwhile, Harry is preoccupied by finding out how much arse-wiggling you can do whilst wearing powder-blue salopettes. Every once in a while Zayn manages to fall into a particularly deep drift, and then Liam scoops him out like he weighs nothing at all while Harry makes rude faces at them both.

After a bit, Liam and Louis race while Niall bounces up and down and cheers for both of them. Liam's ahead, but then Louis calls out loudly, "Oh, no! Zayn's fallen!" and when Liam turns around to see, Louis puts on a burst of speed and beats him.

"My hero!" says Niall, when they all catch up. He flings himself at Louis and kisses him on the cheek.

"Your hero is a cheater," Liam points out.

"You mispronounced _clever_ ," says Louis, reaching out to snap Liam's orange ski goggles. Liam grabs his hand and holds it.

"Rub his face in the snow, Liam," Harry advises.

Louis, surprisingly, nods. "You should probably do that. Then we'll be even."

"Even for what?" Liam asks.

"For getting us all sent to jail," says Louis.

"Oh Louis," says Liam. "That was the best thing that ever happened to me." And he holds Louis's hand to his cheek for a moment before letting go.

"Ski cuddle!" howls Niall. "Ski cuddle immediately!" He barrels into all of them with arms outstretched. Zayn lets himself be carried along and ends up in the snow with the rest of them. It's not exactly horrible. He closes his eyes for a moment before extricating himself from the tangle of skis and getting to his feet. The only problem with being the first one up is that Liam and Harry each grab one of his hands to help themselves to their feet and down he goes again.

Zayn looks up at Liam and Harry. Liam looks apologetic. Harry is beaming. "Zayn," says Harry, "when are we going to—"

"—work on your snowplough turns?" asks Liam, and pulls Zayn to his feet.

Zayn does the best he can to be incompetent for awhile, and then just gives up and skis. Zayn and Liam and Harry can hear Louis and Niall talking from behind them as they climb back up the hill. Niall seems to be slowing Louis down.

"Louis," Niall's grumbling, "I already told you I was rubbish at skiing."

"You're smashing it, mate," Louis coos at him. "Now see this deadly weapon? Watch me get Liam right in the back of the head."

Liam ducks smoothly to the side without even looking back, and the snowball flies harmlessly by.

"Aw, bad luck," says Niall. "Probably means we should go back to the cabin."

"We just started," Louis objects.

"You know what's in the cabin, Louis? A fireplace! You know how romantic fireplaces are?"

"Well…" says Louis.

Harry elbows Zayn. "Are they allowed to do it in your cabin, Zayn?"

Zayn shrugs. He supposes he doesn't really mind.

"Think of it," says Niall from behind them. He probably imagines he's being discreet, but it's funny how sound carries in the mountains. "All alone! An open fire! A soft rug! Skin glowing in the light of the flames…" His voice trails away into a whisper. Zayn turns to look behind him. Niall and Louis have got their hands up each others' jumpers.

Louis sees him looking. "We're gonna go back to your cabin, bro, all right? Niall's a bit tired."

"Louis's gonna be tireder!" says Niall sunnily.

"Thank you for sharing," says Liam.

"Later then," says Zayn. Niall and Louis ski off in the direction of the cabin, and Zayn, Harry, and Liam very politely wait until they're out of hearing distance before cracking up.

"Now we've got to wait a decent interval before we go back, though," says Harry a little glumly.

"Why would you want to go back?" asks Liam. "When Zayn's doing so well! You're a quick learner, Zayn."

"It's because you're such a good teacher," says Harry solemnly to Liam, and Liam's face lights up. "I'll bet Zayn's very, very grateful," adds Harry.

"Uh," says Liam, and his cheeks are already rosy from the sun and the cold and the exertion, but possibly they get just a little bit redder.

"I'll show you later," says Zayn, deciding he might as well find out whether, if Liam and Harry are a couple, they're a couple in an exclusive kind of way. He hopes not. He hopes that harder than he probably should.

"You don't have to," Liam says quietly.

"Why do I feel like I've heard this conversation before?" says Harry.

Liam looks down at his skis. "I mean, I’m really glad I could help bring you guys together again, but I saw what you were—I can tell that—look, I'm happy for you, okay?"

"What?" says Harry. "Liam, don't be dumb."

"You and Zayn," says Liam. "Look, the whole helicopter thing keeps me pretty busy anyway. It's not like I have time for a relationship."

"Well, too late!" says Harry, swerving on his skis and coming to a stop. "You're already in one."

Liam bites his lip. "I know you missed Zayn, and I really liked—I didn't mind filling in."

"Whoa," says Harry. He's cast his ski poles aside and he's glaring at Liam. Zayn's not sure he's ever seen Harry glare before. "What the fuck. Yeah, I missed Zayn, but after you started spending half your time flying helicopters, I missed you too. Listen to me, Liam Payne. When I was alone at night in my residence hall I wanked to you every bit as often as I wanked to Zayn."

"Now that's a declaration of love," says Zayn. He means to be sarcastic, but somehow his timing is off, and the last word seems to echo off the mountains that surround them.

"Yes," says Harry. He takes a deep breath. "It is. For both of you. And now my term's over and I'm on holiday and you can both fuck right off if you don't want me." He stands there, hands on his powder-blue hips, and scowls.

"Liam wants you," says Zayn, both because it's true and because the look on Harry's face makes him want to fix Harry more hot cocoa and give him a puppy to pet. Then he tries to gather the courage to say the next important thing.

"Zayn wants you too," says Liam, before he can. Zayn nods fervently. Liam reaches out for Harry's hand and says, "Yeah, I—Harry, I thought you already knew how I felt. So if you're sure—"

"Yes," says Harry, very low and a little wobbly, and then, louder, " _Yes_." And he tips forward into Liam's arms.

Zayn and Liam look at each other. Liam has pulled off Harry's beanie and he's running his hand through Harry's hair. "Are you mad at me?" asks Liam. "Or do you—do you—"

"You should probably know," Zayn cuts in, "I could actually already ski."

"But that doesn't make sense," objects Liam. "I mean, then why were you—oh. _Oh_."

"You want me to tell you a story again, Liam?" says Zayn.

"Kissing's quicker," says Harry, lifting his head from Liam's shoulder.

"Well, I was planning on that too," says Zayn, and he takes Harry's other hand before leaning in toward Liam.

Liam says, "Wait."

"You're a very very strange and unusual person, Liam," says Harry. "Did you notice Zayn's trying to kiss you?"

"It's just," says Liam. "I don't see how this is going to work. I mean, Zayn wants to live all alone in a mountain cabin, apparently. So like, what kind of a three-way relationship is that?"

"A hot one," says Harry. "Dirty weekends following long periods of pining. I guess?" But he doesn't look exactly happy about it. And it's then, as Zayn watches Harry be dissatisfied but try anyway to make the best of it, that he realises what he really wants. Even more than he wants the open road, even more than he wants a mountain cabin, even more than he wants Liam to admit that he's wrong about Talia al Ghul, Zayn wants to make Harry and Liam happy. To see dimples. Eye crinkles. Everyfuckingthing.

"Uh," says Zayn. "Come to think of it." Brown eyes and green eyes stare at him, a little mournful and a little hopeful. Zayn pulls his ski goggles over his eyes for a moment and then yanks them off again. "It's only I might've gone overboard on the lone wolf thing. Just a bit. And, like, my cabin's actually pretty big? There's room for three to live, I think."

"Oh my god," says Harry. "Really?"

"Maybe even five," says Zayn, remembering Louis and Niall and hoping that they're enjoying themselves and that they remembered to let Bruce and Tony out before getting started. He's starting to have sickening thoughts about matching tattoos.

Liam says, "You know, Zayn, that space behind your cabin makes a really good landing strip for my helicopter."

"I've always liked the idea of distance learning," says Harry thoughtfully.

"So," says Zayn, "so," and he tries to think of more words but he might be smiling too wide to talk. "You want to try? If you two aren't mad at me for being a bit of a twat."

"Mad?" says Liam. "Mad?" He scoops Zayn up and twirls him around with his face in Zayn's neck. "I'm gonna teach you how to fly a helicopter," he whispers. Then Liam sets him down in front of Harry without letting go.

"Let me kiss you," says Harry.

But Zayn plunges forward and kisses Harry first. And this must be the day he gets everything he wants, because Harry's mouth is the only warm thing on the whole icy mountain, except for Liam's mouth, and Zayn has them both.

The three of them are a jumble of lips and hands, unsteady in the snow. "This is lovely, but I'm a bit cold," Harry says after a minute, and Liam nods.

"Then come on," says Zayn to his boys. "It's time to take you home."

 

 

END

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr post is [here.](http://valencing.tumblr.com/post/48263182271/na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-heres-zayn-on-a)


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